Namtan

As the live stream of Faye and Yoko's wedding played on her tablet, Namtan sat motionless in the dimly lit villa. The joy radiating from Faye's face was undeniable—a happiness so pure it felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Yet, in Namtan's chest, a storm raged on.

Behind the closed door of the guest room, Film lay unconscious, a captive of circumstances Namtan never thought she'd find herself orchestrating. The weight of her actions bore down on her, a crushing blend of guilt and resolve. She whispered softly, as if seeking solace from the universe itself, "I did this for Faye... for her happiness."

Hours earlier, Namtan had acted on sheer instinct, intercepting Film before she could board the flight to Thailand. The rumors had been too loud to ignore, and the stakes were too high. Film had always been unpredictable—a volatile force that could unravel everything Faye had worked so hard to rebuild. Namtan couldn't let that happen, not again.

But as the adrenaline faded and the weight of her actions settled in, doubt began to creep into Namtan's mind. Had she done the right thing? Was this truly the only way? Or had she crossed a line from which there was no return?

She let out a heavy sigh, raising her beer to her lips for a long sip. The bitterness of the drink matched the turmoil swirling inside her. She knew all too well the gravity of what she'd done—it was against the law, plain and simple. And the irony wasn't lost on her. She was studying law, for God's sake. If anyone understood the consequences, it was her.

Even with Faye's influence and power, Namtan knew this was a line that couldn't be easily erased. Film wasn't just anyone; she was a high-profile celebrity with immense resources and connections. The fact that she had made it onto Forbes' list this year only underscored how untouchable she seemed. No matter how justified Namtan felt in her actions, the reality of facing someone as powerful as Film loomed over her like a storm cloud.

----

Namtan's childhood was shaped by hardship, a cascade of losses and struggles that began with her mother's death when she was just ten years old. She still remembered Dr. Malisorn—Faye's mother—speaking to her after the funeral, promising to take care of her. In those moments, the warmth and kindness of the Malisorns eased the unbearable pain of losing her mom.

The Malisorns had always been a beacon of kindness. Namtan fondly recalled their youngest daughter, Faye, who treated her with such gentleness and warmth. Whenever Namtan visited the mansion with her mom, she and Miss Sonya would play while Faye often looked after them. It broke her heart when Faye told her she was leaving to study abroad. She cried as they hugged goodbye, but Faye promised to visit when she came home.

That was the last time Namtan saw her. Faye stayed abroad, determined to finish her studies quickly, taking every class available to graduate faster. Namtan admired her dedication, though it hurt that Faye couldn't come home—not even when her mother passed away. Despite the distance, Faye called to comfort her. But when the funeral ended, everything changed.

Namtan's father packed their belongings, his expression dark as he spoke angrily on the phone. She overheard him blaming the Malisorns for her mother's death, forbidding any further contact with them. Confused and heartbroken, she was forced to follow her father to the countryside, where she met her grandmother for the first time.

I discovered that this was the place the Malisorn family didn't know about, because everyone believed my father was from the city and that his parents were dead. My grandmother was overjoyed to finally meet me, and she told me that my father had left them for the city and they never heard from him again. Even when my grandfather passed away five years ago, my father never returned.

My grandmother was kind and welcoming, but their life was far from easy. The older woman sold vegetables at the market to support herself, and Namtan joined her, helping with the work.  Her father, however, quickly revealed his true nature. He would come home drunk, demanding money from her grandmother, and when she refused, he grew violent.

Namtan bore the brunt of his anger. He stole her school money and beat her when her grandmother wasn't around. Though the bruises and scars stayed hidden, the pain ran deep. Namtan never told her grandmother, fearing it would only make things worse.

When Namtan turned fifteen, everything came to a horrifying climax. Her father, drunk and enraged after losing a gamble, argued with her grandmother to sell part of their land. When she refused, he destroyed their belongings and stormed out. The next morning, he returned, his anger now directed at Namtan.

He hit her with a force that sent her head against the wall. Dazed and in pain, she fought back as he tried to assault her, kicking and biting him as hard as she could. Just when she was about to lose consciousness, the door burst open. Her grandmother stood there, screaming as she swung a bat at him. The police were called, and her father was arrested.

Namtan woke up in the hospital to her grandmother's tears. "Did he...?" her grandmother asked, her voice trembling. Namtan shook her head. "It was the first time he tried," she whispered. "But he's been hitting me ever since we moved here."

Her grandmother's cries grew louder, laden with regret and anguish. She vowed to keep him in jail, determined to ensure he could never hurt them again. But the damage was already done. Her father had sold off her grandmother's land—the very land where she grew the vegetables she sold at the market—leaving them with nothing but the house.

Things only got worse. Her grandmother suffered a heart attack after learning the house was at risk of being repossessed by the bank. She had leased it to pay for lawyers and hospital bills but couldn't manage the rising debt.

When her grandmother passed away, Namtan was left utterly alone, unable to bear the painful memories of her hometown. She decided to leave her province, seeking a fresh start. To survive, she worked tirelessly at various odd jobs, even dropping out of school for a year to save money. With nowhere to stay, she slept in the kitchen of the restaurant where she worked—until the owner discovered her and forced her to leave.

With nowhere else to go, she rented a small, dingy basement room with unpainted walls and a nauseating smell. It wasn't much, but it was all she could afford. She worked during the day and studied at night, pushing through exhaustion and despair.

Through it all, thoughts of the Malisorns haunted her. A thousand times, she considered reaching out to them, but the fear of rejection held her back. Her father's accusations still weighed heavily on her mind—what if they resented him for blaming them for her mother's death? What if they were angry with her too?

Life trudged on in a bleak, monotonous cycle until the day Faye found her. That moment was burned into Namtan's memory—a lifeline in the darkness. She would never forget Faye stepping into the fast-food restaurant where she worked, alongside who she believed was Sonya. They looked like they had stepped out of a magazine, both radiating an effortless elegance that turned heads the moment they entered.

Namtan's heart clenched. Despite their appearance of untouchable glamour, Faye and Sonya were the kindest, most humble people she had ever known. They had been her only true friends during her childhood, despite the vast difference in their social standing.

When Faye saw her and realized the truth of Namtan's situation, it was as if the dam broke. They cried together—Namtan overwhelmed by a mixture of shame and relief, and Faye overcome with guilt for not finding her sooner. Faye apologized profusely, tears streaming down her face, but Namtan could only cry harder, shaking her head. Faye had nothing to apologize for; she owed her nothing. Yet here she was, offering an outstretched hand and the promise of help.

In that moment, Namtan's world shifted. Faye didn't just offer her help—she insisted. She wouldn't even allow Namtan to return to her dingy room to retrieve her belongings. "I can get you anything you need," Faye had said with such sincerity that Namtan couldn't argue. That day marked the beginning of her belief that there was still hope, even after so much pain.

Faye didn't just provide a roof over her head; she gave Namtan a fresh start. She sent her to therapy to heal the scars of her past and surrounded her with unconditional support. She taught her about life, shared her wisdom, and made Namtan believe in a future she had thought was out of reach.

Now, as Namtan neared the completion of her studies, she felt the weight of what she had done. She knew Faye would be disappointed if she discovered her actions. But Namtan would rather face jail time than see Faye endure another moment of sadness.

The memory of those dark days when Yoko had asked Faye for space was still vivid. Faye wasn't one to wallow, but Namtan and Sonya could see through her facade. They saw the empty stares, the forced smiles. Faye was deeply hurt, and it was unbearable to witness. In those moments, Namtan had wanted nothing more than to strangle Film for causing her pain.

Faye, ever resilient, had thrown herself into work, but Namtan and Sonya knew her too well. They recognized the quiet ache she tried to mask. And while Sonya shared Namtan's determination to protect Faye's happiness, Namtan knew their methods would always differ. Sonya was gentle, composed, and deeply respectful of the law. She would never resort to something as extreme as kidnapping, unlike Namtan.

With a heavy sigh, Namtan drained the last of her beer, the bitterness of the drink no match for the storm swirling in her heart.

---

The muffled sound of movement pulled Namtan from her thoughts. She stood abruptly, her heart pounding as she approached the door to the guest room. Inside, Film stirred, groaning softly as she came to. Namtan hesitated, her hand hovering over the door handle. How would she explain this? What words could possibly justify her actions?

Steeling herself, Namtan pushed open the door. The dimly lit room cast shadows that danced against the walls. Film was sitting up on the bed, her disheveled hair framing a face that was groggy but quickly sharpening as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. Her gaze snapped to Namtan, and her eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flaring.

"You," Film spat, her voice raspy from hours of unconsciousness. "What the hell is this? Where am I?"

Namtan took a deep breath, holding up her hands in an attempt to project calm. "You're safe," she began carefully, her voice even but laced with tension. "I had to stop you."

"Stop me?" Film's laugh was sharp and bitter, dripping with disbelief. "From what? What kind of twisted game are you playing, Namtan?"

Namtan stepped closer, her tone firm but betraying a hint of curiosity. "You know me?"

Film rolled her eyes, her irritation palpable. "What do you mean do I know you? Of course, I know you. I was with Faye in Switzerland, remember? She talked about you constantly— and now you're her loyal right hand, the ever-reliable Namtan."

Namtan blinked, caught off guard. "She talked about me?"

Film ignored the question, her anger rising. "So tell me again, Namtan—why the hell am I here?"

Namtan hesitated for a moment, then sighed, avoiding Film's piercing gaze. "My assistant overheard you. You were at a café, and you said... you said you were going to Faye's wedding to stop it."

Film's expression shifted. A flicker of confusion crossed her face, but it was quickly masked with defiance. "Unbelievable. Did you even bother to confirm if it was true?" Her voice was cold, cutting through the tension in the room like a blade. "And what if it was? You thought kidnapping me was the answer? Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"I did what I had to do," Namtan shot back, her voice rising with conviction. "Faye deserves happiness. She's been through enough, and I wasn't going to let you take that away from her."

The room fell into a charged silence. The air between them crackled with unspoken emotions, each word echoing like a challenge. Film studied Namtan, her anger softening just slightly as curiosity crept into her gaze. "You care about her that much," she said quietly, her tone more contemplative than accusatory.

"I owe her that much," Namtan replied, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. "She's like family to me. I couldn't just sit back and do nothing."

Film leaned back against the headboard, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Family," she echoed, the word hanging heavy in the room. "And yet, here you are, holding me hostage like some kind of villain."

Namtan's cheeks flushed, shame flickering across her face, but she stood her ground. "I don't expect you to understand. But I did this for her. For her happiness."

Film let out a heavy sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. Her gaze softened as she looked at Namtan with a mix of exasperation and curiosity. "You're a complicated one, aren't you?" she murmured, almost to herself.

Then, with a dry laugh, she added, "You know I can sue you, right?"

"I know," Namtan said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "And I'm willing to face the consequences."

Film's eyebrows shot up. "By consequences, you mean you're willing to go to jail—just so Faye gets her happy ending?"

Namtan nodded silently, her determination unshaken.

Frustrated, Film raked a hand through her hair. "When you kidnapped me, did you at least grab my bag? I need my phone and my passport."

Namtan gave a small nod and walked across the room. She opened the closet, pulling out a sleek designer bag resting inside.

Film snatched it from her angrily, her glare searing into Namtan. "Where are we?" she demanded, her voice low and sharp.

"We're in the Philippines," Namtan replied, her voice steady. "This is my grandmother's house."

Film froze for a moment, her anger giving way to cautious curiosity. "Your grandmother's house," she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief. "This is... your idea of keeping me away from the wedding? Taking me to some remote corner of the Philippines?"

Namtan simply nodded, her face unreadable.

Film let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But you're insane."

Namtan said nothing, the weight of her actions and their consequences pressing heavily on her shoulders.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello, babes! Happy New year! I missed you all. As promised, here's the second book in my journey to create stories for every Thai GL couple I know. Pluto just wrapped up on Saturday, but today marks the beginning of Namtan and Film's story.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on each chapter, and your votes will be greatly appreciated.

Please remember, this story comes entirely from my imagination. While some parts are inspired by things I've learned throughout my life, not everything will be 100% accurate or align with everyone's perspectives. We all have different opinions, and that's perfectly okay—this story isn't meant to dictate what anyone should believe. Any similarities to real events or people are purely coincidental.

Let's enjoy this journey together and create a fun, friendly space where we can share our thoughts. No bashing—just kindness and good vibes, please!

Thank you so much, babes! 💖